The season is here.
Even with the assessment that we are a far too impatient culture and we should learn how to wait for the things we want, being in an NBA holding pattern for months on months on months was far too ridiculous. For the fans, it never really mattered about who was going to win the lockout between the players and the owners. All we wanted to know is when we got our basketball back. Was it a marketing ploy to start on Christmas Day? Was the season rushed to take advantage of a day that will bring many of the holiday-celebrating families together, in front of television sets around the world, trying to forge a familial interest. Probably.
Do any of us care after yesterday’s games? Not at all.
For some of us, basketball is our livelihood even if we never make any money off of it. It brings us an escape from lives filled with pressuring responsibilities in watching athletic giants trying to persevere through pressure-packed situations. The NBA is a museum of modern art. It doesn’t have to make sense to the passersby. They can look at the coloring between the lines, the pretty shapes, their senses being teased. Then they can leave the exhibit and go have lunch without ever thinking about it again.